My School, My Heaven

Just came across my first school’s community in Orkut. And since then can’t help but recount all my happy years spent in school. From lining up near the gate to sing the national anthem every morning to swinging on the entrance gates and getting scolded almost every day.

Very few have ever been through the esteemed hallways of East Point School (yes that was the name, as ridiculous as it may sound), but I’m sure that everyone’s lives were somehow touched by the spirit and the culture there. Very few of my friends know about it, ‘cause I have almost guarded the knowledge from them in the fear of being ridiculed because of its name, as I was initially when i joined the new school, Cambridge. But I can’t be prouder of having joined EPS, my childhood could never have been be more enriched. I remember the weird arrangement when Japanese students joined us in the 5th standard. They were superlative in sports and were very fun to be with. I still remember all their names; Michael, Raphael, Elijah, Robert, Pauline and the attractive Rachel. They would be there just for the initial four periods and then head back home, and the periods were arranged such that English, Hindi and Math was taught in the mornings. It was a queer arrangement, and many would question as to why a school would go to such lengths to take just 6 students in class. But the school was perennially short of funds; even working capital needs were met with difficulty.

I remember the inadequate infrastructure, the school operated out of. One three floored building and that was it. Many of my friends lived in houses larger than that school building. No sports ground to speak of. Our sports periods were spent under the vigilant eyes of a teacher in a community ground of that place, just behind our school. Small classrooms, individual chairs and tables, a small library that housed few books, and one “khoosat” librarian. No canteen and no open spaces that I took for granted in my new school. But it couldn’t have been better. Smaller classes meant lesser students per class; I guess 30 in a class and 2 sections for that standard was the maximum that the school ever managed. Yet, it was this sole reason which promoted friendship and closeness both between the students as well as the teachers and the students. I remember the teachers fondly. Vandana mam and her cute daughter Sonali, Amita mam and her slightly British accent, Radha mam and her south Indian accent, Sharma mam and how she always disliked me, as I was poor in Hindi. I remember Christopher Sir, and how well he played the guitar. His Bon Jovi looks, long blonde hair would have floored many a girl. And Kanti sir and how he would slap both cheeks simultaneously, and how it used to hurt back then. I remember the classes, somehow I was brilliant right through till 8th standard; i remembered i got the best student award in every class till 8th and cried when i got 63 in Math in the mid terms.

You would ask as to why I left the school at all. But as luck would have it, the school did not have permission to conduct classes beyond 8th, neither could it, there was no space left. My academic career nosedived thereafter. I used to hold my new school culpable for that, with its typically overfilled and noisy students, uncaring teachers and poor teaching methods. But then, my old school had pampered me so much, that any place after that was bound to be a shock. Nobody can imagine studying in a class size of 11, yes 11, and that was my final year at school, with 6 girls and 5 boys in one class. You could imagine the level of closeness the teachers had with each students. Typically the students would be living near the school itself, and were within walking distance of each other’s places. We used to visit each other often. We used to shop for gifts together when any teacher had a birthday and then went all the way to our teacher’s home to wish her. Generally when someone joined the school, nobody left unless “better knowing” parents in the interest of their children’s futures would take them away. When I think of the past, I can remember zilch of my new school; I had practically no friend and precisely one teacher who I liked. So I have no memory of years from 9th to 12th, a time when most students have most fun in their lives, into their teens and about to enter adulthood. But I had had my fun early in life. And nobody could replace that, those memories are etched in my mind, none have faded. Some of the long lost friends, Anubhav, Sakshi, Manu, Gautam, Gaurav….I still remember them, have not talked to them now for like 8 years, don’t know where they are or what they are doing presently but I’m sure I’ll face no anxiety when I meet them, only nostalgia of what I had, and what I miss most in my life…..my school, my heaven……